


Something About The Boy

by flawedamythyst



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-03
Updated: 2006-12-03
Packaged: 2018-10-16 10:16:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10569249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flawedamythyst/pseuds/flawedamythyst
Summary: Jess doesn't need her friends to tell her that there's something weird about Sam Winchester.





	

She doesn't need her friends to tell her that there's something weird about him.

She remembers when Scott had produced a knife at a party once, a souvenir from some drunken holiday. It'd been passed round, everyone holding it a little unsteadily, not sure what to do with it. Sam had hefted it in a way that looked practiced, looked a little less than impressed then passed it on without a word. He'd sat silent through the following conversation when all the boys were trying to show off - 'my uncle let me shoot his gun once.'

Later, she'd seen him run a thoughtful finger down the blade as it lay forgotten on the table. He'd had a strange look on his face, as if he was reliving a memory. Then he'd pulled his hand back, gone into the kitchen and fixed himself a drink.

Melissa thinks he's in hiding from someone. Jessica overheard her telling Francis that it was probably drugs-related.

"It always is, these days," she said, wisely. Jessica remembered a brief visit to Melissa's house, set in a neighbourhood of wide, suburban streets, and the neighbours who all seemed to know her and thought that she'd been watching too much tv.

Still, on dark nights, as they walked together down to the store, or home from a bar, Sam was twitchy. He never really met her eyes - too busy scanning the area.

She could remember him reacting to a homeless guy who'd drunkenly staggered out of an alleyway and surprised them both. He'd stepped in front of her, and his hand had gone straight to his belt, and then stopped suddenly, as if expecting to find something there that was gone. The homeless guy had started saying something loud and accusatory, and Jessica had been frightened but the tension had drained away from Sam, until there was not a trace of fear or even wariness in him. He'd spoken in a calm, slow voice, and the homeless guy had retreated, just backed down in the face of Sam's confidence.

Chrissie said he was lying about his age, and had already done a tour in the army. She claimed that he'd had a violent and horrific time in battle and was emotionally scarred.

Jessica didn't know about emotional scars, but he certainly had enough physical ones - she remembered pouring over his skin the first night they'd spent together, wondering aloud that he must have been a clumsy child. He'd twitched slightly, become uncomfortable, and she'd felt guilty. She'd leant up and kissed him, hoping he heard the unspoken, 'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry.'

Jen has a complex theory involving a satanic cult, arcane rituals and a sudden conversion to Catholicism. She's always been a touch over-imaginative.

Still, sometimes Jessica finds support for it - how many people their age were fluent in Latin anyway? And he did have a tiny bottle of water in his fridge with a cross on the front. He'd told her it was a souvenir of somewhere he'd been as a child.

"You must have seen The Exorcist," said Jack, eyes lighting up at the mention of his favourite film.

Sam had hesitated for a moment, then said, "I've seen it, but it must have been nearly fifteen years ago. I can't remember much."

"You must have been pretty young then," said Shawn. "My parents would have pitched a fit if I'd seen a horror movie when I was that age."

"My Dad rented it for us," said Sam, frowning slightly as if trying to bring back a long-forgotten memory.

"Seriously?" said Jack, "he sounds pretty cool."

Sam had looked up then, and pulled himself back to the present. "I'm not in the mood for a horror movie tonight. What else have you got?"

Tricia, always practical and often sceptical, maintained that his past was as normal and dull as their's had been, but that he was trying to cultivate an air of mysteriousness in order to make himself look cool.

Jessica wasn't sure what she thought - she wasn't sure it mattered. When she was lying in his arms, watching him sleep, it didn't matter what his past was, it only mattered that his present, and hopefully his future, included her.


End file.
